I kept my back to the wall, moving quickly toward the service elevators.

Dr. Reeves’s office was on the fourth floor, tucked away from the main patient wards.

I chose the concrete stairwell instead of the elevator, taking the steps three at a time.

My lungs burned, but I didn’t slow my pace.

I reached the fourth-floor landing and pushed the heavy door open with my shoulder.

The corridor was dimly lit by a few flickering fluorescent tubes.

At the far end, the door to the administrative suite was splintered and hanging off its hinges.

The lock mechanism lay in pieces on the carpet.

I drew my weapon and approached the door, my thumb releasing the safety.

There was no sound from inside, only the hum of the building’s ventilation system.

I stepped over the broken wood and entered the reception area.

Files were scattered across the floor like autumn leaves in a storm.

A heavy desk chair was overturned, its wheels still spinning slowly.

I stepped deeper into the suite, my eyes scanning the deep shadows.

“Reeves?” I called out in a low, commanding voice.